


Smutember Day 17: In Public

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Insidious (Movies)
Genre: But hey it's fun, Demon Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious everything if I'm honest, F/M, Huge monster cock, Tongue bondage (yes that's a thing now), sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: A paranormal researcher gets the willies put up her





	Smutember Day 17: In Public

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarthFucamus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthFucamus/gifts).



> Submission for Tumblr's Smutember event.

Waffle was scared, though she pretended not to be. Her new colleagues had been given a glowing recommendation of her abilities by none other than Elise Rainier, and currently they all thought she was hot shit, so the last thing she wanted to do was admit that she was fucking terrified.

She'd been with the group a few weeks, finding them after a brief Google search. Their name - Paranormal Research In Kansas - had made her laugh with its questionable acronym, of which they seemed to be blissfully unaware, but they'd been eager for a new recruit.

They were funded by the bored, rich son of a local businessman with an interest in the unexplained and they'd been duly impressed by her credentials and a demonstration of her psychic talent. So far, they'd done very little beyond a spot of urban exploration, holding seances in abandoned buildings and exploring graveyards with state of the art camera equipment, but this - THIS seemed to be the real deal.

The family was a friend of their leader’s, Richard, and they'd been having some trouble. Their daughter had been waking them with night terrors for the past three weeks, screaming about the “red man in the corner”, and though the parents of the little girl had dismissed it as mere nightmares, other things had happened, culminating in the mother seeing a “moving shadow” in the corner of her daughter's bedroom after a particularly nasty episode.

The little girl was at her grandmother's house for the duration of the investigation, and Waffle was there to take her place.

Richard had set up the recording equipment at strategic points around the room, and night vision cameras were angled towards the bed.

Waffle lay on the narrow bed, feeling like a princess surrounded by pink gauze and stuffed toys, and waited for the thing to show itself.

She hadn't been afraid during their other trips, as there hadn't been anything to be scared of, but this time in was different. This time she could feel something lingering in the girl's room, a nasty atmosphere that hung around like smoke after a fire.

The others were gathered in the next room, watching the monitors and eating donuts. Waffle could have used a donut right now, despite the sickening fear that was churning in her guts.

A sudden crackle made her flinch as the walkie-talkie in her hand sprang into life.

“How's it going?” asked Richard, his voice tinny and intrusive.

Waffle shrugged, knowing they could see her clearly.

“There's definitely something here, but whether it'll show up I don't know,” she said. “It's bad, too - powerful.”

“Spirit or something more?”

Richard sounded intrigued and excited now. He'd confessed to her his desire to encounter “something more” at least once in his life, and the prospect of finally finding one seemed to be putting him on the verge of nutting on the spot.

Waffle sighed.

“Something more….” she said.

“Say it!” urged Richard, his misplaced enthusiasm giving her the feeling that she was working on a phone sex line. “Say the word, Waffle. You know we want to hear it.”

Waffle rubbed her eyes wearily.

“Demonic. Okay? You happy? I think we might have a demon.”

She could hear Richard cheering even without the walkie-talkie. She snorted. It was okay for him. He had no idea how terrifying a demon could actually be.

“Now shut up,” she told him. “You're screwing up the wavelengths……”

 

An hour passed. Waffle was still scared but she was also bored. The girlie decor in the room was giving her a headache even in the dark, and she needed to pee.

She was just about to move and suggest a break when she hesitated. Something was coming.

Waffle lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, focussing her senses.

It was colder in the room, and by turning her head fractionally she could see the digital thermometer not far away, it's red LED display showing her the rapidly dropping numbers.

Then there was the smell: Like smoke and rotting meat with a side-note of shit, faint yet lingering.

She heard a noise, at first mistaking it for the crackle of the walkie-talkie, and though this time she would have welcomed Richard’s inane observations, she was out of luck. It was coming from the corner of the room - the same corner the mother claimed to see the shadow. It was a sound reminiscent of the lick of flames devouring a knot in wood.

Starting to panic, Waffle tried to sit, but although she made a concerted effort her limbs were heavy and leaden. She couldn't even raise her head, but she could move her eyes and she did so, straining painfully in the dark to see what was approaching.

It was there: a darker patch in the shadows, a stain that  stretched and unfolded into a vaguely humanoid shape. It was tall, skinny, with a long and slender extension that could only be a tail. It swished around the figure’s legs, twitching like a cat's.

Waffle whimpered through numb lips, wanting to speak, to beg for intervention from her colleagues but only able to produce that tiny noise. She wondered if the people gathered in the other room could see the horrifying thing that lurked on her line of vision.

The crackling noise got louder, the creature detaching itself from its corner and creeping towards the bed where she lay helpless. A wave of terror washed over her, a natural reaction to its unnaturalness, and she felt goosebumps prickle her skin, fear stinging her eyes with tears.

It leaned over her, its gaudy face a bright scarlet colour, shiny like lipstick, black designs and patterns sketched into its features. It put her in mind of Darth Maul from the Star Wars franchise. There were sharp teeth that gleamed in contrast to the shadowy pit of its mouth; a hooked nose; white eyes with slit pupils that studied her with cruel intelligence.

Waffle managed a gasp as it bent closer, its breath foul and hot. A hand came into view, it's fingers tipped with long, sharp claws, and it poked her curiously, possibly puzzled that the little girl wasn't there.

Waffle flinched as the end of one claw touched her throat, pressing a dimple into the hollow formed by her collar bones. She could imagine that claw puncturing her, stabbing a hole in the thin skin, but instead the single point trailed down onto her breastbone.

The demon made a sound that almost sounded like a chuckle, and held its hand, fingers spread, above her face, showing her the full span of it claws. Waffle shuddered, wondering if the thing would gut her, but when the hand moved out of sight there was a ripping of cloth rather than the soft squelch of her belly being unzipped.

Dipping her chin as far as she could she looked on in horror as the demon shredded her shirt, reducing it to tatters before slipping a claw almost delicately between the cups of her bra and slicing it apart to expose her.

Her nipples had been brought to stiff points by the fear and the temperature and the creature flicked one teasingly with the end of a claw. Waffle twitched, a single muscle jumping in response.

There was a commotion coming from the hallway beyond the bedroom, the other members of the research organisation coming to her rescue, but the door slammed shut at a gesture from the monster that loomed over her and she was forced to listen to their ineffective efforts to get in.

The demon opened its mouth in a wicked leer, a forked tongue protruding, crimson and raw, undulating as it crept out further and further. Waffle gazed in horrified curiosity as it continued to extend until the divided end touched her, scorchingly hot in contrast to her freezing skin, snaking over her ribs and squirming across the underside of her breasts. It coiled, capturing the hard bud of a nipple in a tight loop and squeezing.

Unable to help herself, Waffle moaned, a quiet utterance that she hoped her colleagues wouldn't hear. It was bad enough that they could see her stripped to the waist without seeing her apparently enjoying the monster's perverse caresses. It was an unwanted response to the thing’s attention, an instinctive bodily reaction, but she was ashamed by the way her libido responded.

The tongue unwrapped, travelling across her chest to the other nipple, teasing the peak, lolling with lazy hunger as it twisted over her skin.

Waffle closed her eyes, trying to deny the reality of what was happening, but the action seemed to annoy the demon. There was a sharp pain on her stomach, jerking her reluctant gaze down. He'd cut her, tracing a scratch across her belly that beaded with blood. It wasn't deep, but she got the message.

The thing's tongue moved down, stopping briefly to taste the blood that stippled her injury, dipping into the cup of her navel, before working its way under the waistband of her jeans.

Waffle’s face grew hot with embarrassment, already knowing what the creature had in mind, and at the first touch to her clit she tried to suppress the groan that threatened to betray her arousal. It felt good, that was the problem. Scared or not, the hot slimey thing worming between the lips of her vulva was delicious, tickling and lapping in a tantalising rhythm.

It didn't stop there, slithering on down, probing the slippery gape of her pussy with relish, exploring the rim before plunging inside. The rest of the tongue still lay over her clit, thick muscle flexing as it swirled its tip inside her.

Waffle struggled to speak, to voice her disapproval, but her throat closed around the words, her teeth gritting together. She was powerless, unable to resist, and the demon was tormenting her beyond belief.

She felt her pussy clench around the thing's tongue, squeezing it. She was glad she was paralysed now, as if she hadn't been she'd have embarrassed herself by opening her legs wider, encouraging her penetration.

The forked tongue withdrew and Waffle sighed with mingled disappointment and relief, but the emotions were short-lived as the demon explored her further, gliding past her hungry pussy and touching the vulnerable knot of her asshole. This time she managed a feeble jerk of rebellion, rolling her eyes up into her head and the demon laughed at her arousal.

It pulled its tongue free, slurping the entire length back into its maw, and circled the bed, considering her defenceless body.

“Nnuh,” Waffle managed, trying to shake her head. It trembled slightly on the pink pillow.

She concentrated, managing to move one finger a millimetre, twitch one shoulder. Whilst she fought the hold the demon had over her it helped itself to more entertainment, using both hands to shred her jeans, pulling it's claws along her legs from her hips to her ankles. There was pain as it nicked her skin, scoring searing lines on her thighs.

The denim fell apart, leaving her legs naked, and the thing climbed onto the bed.

Waffle’s eyes widened at the full unobstructed sight of it - except she couldn't call it “It” anymore. It was very definitely male.

His body was deep black in colour, like he'd been covered in boot polish, and seemed to absorb light. There was a thatch of coarse fur at his groin, but it had lifted up to reveal the biggest cock she'd ever seen….

It was black with a dull red head the colour of dried blood, and was thicker at the end than at the base. Instead of a foreskin it had a corrugated sleeve of flesh that extended several inches down from the bulging helmet, with bristles that stuck out all round.

Waffle squeaked her dismay, feeling her pussy shrivel in anticipation of how the monstrous organ would feel. Surely he wouldn't use it on her….?

As if reading her mind he grinned at her, luminous eyes soaking up the expression on her face, and his cock bobbed in response to her obvious trepidation. Her panties were still intact, her last inadequate barrier, but he wrenched them off savagely, sending little scraps of nylon drifting over the floor.

Panic lending her strength, Waffle managed to move her arm, feeling volition return to her body. She bent her knees, digging her heels into the mattress and pushing herself away, but he hooked his hands under her calves, tugging her back down, prying her legs apart.

She sat up, slapping weakly at his hands, trying to summon the effort needed to dislodge him. She may as well have hit the walls of the building for all the good it did her, but she'd made the attempt: She'd shown her colleagues watching the drama unfold on-screen that she had put up a fight.

His tongue shot out again, unravelling swiftly, lassoing her wrists and forcing them above her head. She felt her back arch under the strain, pulling her body taut.

He brandished his cock by the root, waving it at her, teasing her with his intention as he held her immobile.

“Oh my God,” she murmured, and he shook his head, apparently amused.

She thought she understood the reason for his mirth: God wasn't going to help. God had turned away in disgust at her wantonness.

He bent his cock downward, easing towards her crotch and the meaty end of it brushed her clit. Waffle sucked in her breath at the contact. His dick was as heated as his tongue and the pressure produced an extraordinary response in her, the muscles along the back of her thighs vibrating as she gave in, spreading her legs apart, letting her head roll back.

He continued to torment her, rubbing the slick, swollen head up and down, skidding from her ass to her clit and back again, over and over. It didn't feel like human flesh: It felt better, tingling as if conducting a mild electric current and Waffle squirmed against it, panting.

At this point she'd surrendered to the pleasure. If the creature was going to fuck her anyway she may as well enjoy it. Somewhere at the back of her mind a nagging little voice was trying to remind her that her peers were likely watching her on the monitors, but she no longer cared.

Apparently tiring of the foreplay, he poised the shiny knob of his cock at her pussy entrance, nudging against it as if testing her resistance. She had none. Her cunt seemed to close eagerly over the foreign object and she tensed as if she could suck it into herself. He began to work it into her, penetrating her gradually, and Waffle craned her neck to watch, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stretched around it.

The head popped in, and she writhed as the weird foreskin-type thing followed, the bristles it bore actually little fleshy nodules that bent in order to go in but sprang back out to tickle the walls of her pussy. It felt unbelievable. She tried to lift her hips to speed the process but flopped uselessly like a stranded fish.

He was about a third of the way into her now, but he was already bumping her cervix, and she shook her head in panic.

“No more! That's far enough!” she babbled, envisioning herself being impaled on the demon’s cock until it burst through her womb and out the other side.

To her surprise, he stopped pushing into her and began to thrust instead, sliding in and out of her in a shallow rhythm that slowly began to drive her out of her mind. The bristles ensured she felt every minute sensation, caressing her like many tiny fingers, little shockwaves of pleasure rippling along her insides in a peristaltic motion.

“Holy shit!” Waffle croaked, drumming her heels on the child's bed. There was a wispy pink canopy overhead spangled with little gem-stars and her head spun as she tried to focus on the glitter, her sight blurring with every shunt of his cock.

The demon sniggered, running a scaled hand over her breasts and belly. He was fucking her so hard she was sure she would see her belly bulge if she looked down, and so fast that her teeth chattered together in a rapid staccato.

The discarded walkie-talkie by her hip burst into life and Richard’s squawking voice crackle through the speaker, intermittent yet full of horrified concern.

“Waffle…..ar….lright? We…..t get in….s happening….ffle?”

“Shut up!” she screeched.

She didn't want to be reminded that her team of psychic researchers who had hitherto regarded her with such respect were now watching her getting fucked within an inch of her life.

Her toes curled as the demon touched her neglected clit with the tip of a claw, gurgling laughter at her twisted expression. She gritted her teeth hard in an effort not to cry out, but it was no use: A warm sensation was building in the pit of her stomach that she knew only too well, and she moaned as it started to crest, strumming the muscles in her pussy.

“...affle? Waff….?”

“Oh fuck, no…!” she wailed. “Nonononoyesyesyesyes....”

Her head fell back onto the frilly pillow, knocking a horrified stuffed Eeyore onto the floor as her ass jerked up off the bed. She twisted helplessly as her orgasm washed over her in a wave of shame and ecstasy that she simultaneously never wanted to feel again and wanted to feel forever.

It was. So. Fucking. GOOD!

She went limp, her face hot with humiliation as she felt the pressure on her wrists subside.

The demon withdrew his cock, leaving her empty and oozing, and with a blast of cold air and smoke he was gone.

 

The family moved back into their house. Weeks passed without them reporting any further incidents, and their lives returned to normal.

Waffle’s didn't, however. How does one cope with the aftermath of being fucked by a demon? She couldn't find any self-help books on the subject.

She'd handed in her notice to PRIK that very night, unable to look any of them in the eye, and hobbled home in borrowed clothing where she'd proceeded to become a recluse for the next few weeks.

She felt...odd. Not traumatised like she thought she should be, more….sad. As if she regretted the fact that it was over.

Weird.

 

Exactly 3 weeks and 3 nights after the incident in the girl's bedroom, Waffle woke up at 3.33am.

Her bedroom was freezing, much colder than it should have been and she sat up in confusion, wondering if a window was open.

There was a dark shape in the corner, lurking in the shadows, emitting a crackling noise that sounded very much  like a serenade to her undoubtedly fucked-up ears, and Waffle smiled, lying back on her bed.

“You found me…..” she said, sighing happily, and kicked off her covers as he climbed onto the bed.


End file.
